Harry Potter and the Residence of Death
by Lady Ibis
Summary: Ch.3 is up! This is a story that is supposed to portray Harry in his 6th year... contains general HP characteristics (ie: facing off with Voldemort at the end). Ah I'm bad with summaries... this is my first fic. Please R
1. A Rite of Passage

Harry Potter and the Residence of Death

Chapter 1- A Rite of Passage This fanfiction is based off the stories of J.K. Rowling.

Most of the characters belong to her. I'm sorry if I don't accurately portray the details of life in England. I am an American... so don't kill me.

Please Read and Review (  
  
Harry Potter ran towards the veiled archway, one hand extended to reach the haunting entrance and one hand clutching his head in order to stop the searing pain that was exploding out of his scar. His pace quickened, but no matter how fast he ran, the archway moved farther and farther away from him.  
"SIRIUS! I'M COMING! I'LL GET YOU HELP!" Harry exclaimed. His cries were desperate and futile. Lucius Malfoy suddenly appeared next to him, his black cloak floating in the wind as he haunted Harry.  
"Silly boy, he's not coming back," hissed Lucius. He laughed, and chills were sent up Harry's spine. Harry continued to run, trying greatly to ignore the evil being. Suddenly, Lucius was replaced by Professor Dumbledore. As Professor Dumbledore ran, his white beard and long royal purple robes trailed behind him, giving him a ghostly presence.  
"Harry, he is indeed gone," said Dumbledore in his wise voice.  
"HE IS NOT GONE! HE'LL COME BACK!" shouted Harry, his face and body dripping with perspiration. Dumbledore gave him a stern look and disappeared. Harry's heart was now racing and his back and feet ached, but he could not stop running. Not until he reached Sirius. His eyesight slowly became unfocused, and he felt his legs crumbling beneath him. He fell to the ground, panting hard. His breaths were sharp and uneven, and he felt as if his heart was about to explode. However, he rapidly reassembled himself and rose to his feet. He peered down the dark hallway, and suspiciously eyed the archway.  
Unexpectedly, the archway began to move towards him, and Harry felt a gust of refreshing wind caress his face. It inched closer and closer, until it was only a few feet in front of the boy who lived. A shadow began to emerge from the archway. The figure walked closer and closer to the veil.  
  
"Sirius? Is that you? I knew you were alive!" exclaimed Harry in an eager voice. The figure pushed the veil to one side and stepped out of the archway. It appeared to be Sirius. Harry recognized the untamed black hair and worn skin. Harry surveyed Sirius, but he a feeling of uncertainty and fear loomed in his mind. He became short of breath again, and his scar burned his forehead. He began to feel the exact way that he felt whenever Lord Voldemort was close to him...  
Sirius let out a cold, high-pitched chuckle. This laugh made Harry feel as though he had been plunged in a bucket of ice water, and he immediately recognized it as that of his loathed enemy. Sirius closed his eyes and reopened them, exposing a pair of blood-red tunnels, hollow and hateful. He began to stretch his arm towards Harry, aiming for his neck. Harry tried to run away, but his feet were plastered to the cold floor. His whole body had frozen, and he could not tear his eyes away from those of Lord Voldemort's. He felt as if he was under the Imperious Curse, but he had no willpower to fight it. The pale hand was now barely two millimeters from his neck...  
  
"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!" Harry was awoken by Dudley's new and raucous alarm clock, and his eyes immediately popped open. He could barely breathe, and he was feeling the anxiety of his dream. His body was in an odd position, and his blanket had been twisted around his neck and snaked around his body. He tried to kick it off his now feverish body, but he became entangled in it even more. Finally, after five minutes of struggling, he managed to defeat the blanket and threw it to the other side of his small bedroom. He turned over and looked at his own clock, which had a large crack down the middle of its face and bent hands. It had once belonged to Dudley, and Harry imagined that he had sat on it. It was eight o'clock.   
  
Harry sat up, contemplating his nightmare. It brought back horrible memories of Sirius's unfortunate death, which had occurred less than two months ago. Thinking of his godfather's inevitable death made tear, and thinking of Voldemort made him bitter. Because of that disgusting monster, the three most important adults in his life were dead. His parents suffered at the hand of Voldemort, and Sirius died defending Harry from him. Harry's heart sank, but he knew that he had to think of the positive things in his life. After all, that is what his three guardians would have wanted.

One positive was that today was his sixteenth birthday. Normally, Harry would have dreaded his birthday. In the past, his birthdays indicated how long he had been forced to suffer living under the Dursleys' roof. However, today, he was happy about his birthday. Not only was he turning sixteen, he was having his very first birthday party. This was a rite of passage for Harry. The best part was that, after his party, he would be staying with the Weasleys for the rest of the summer.

Convincing the Dursleys to let him host a birthday part should have been hard work, but it wasn't. Knowing that Mad Eye Moody could easily arrive at their front door and hex them in to oblivion, they skeptically and hatefully agreed to the idea of allowing four wizards to attend the festivities. Harry had invited his two best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley to his party. He had also asked Ron's parents to come. Ron's sister, Ginny, was at a friend's house. He would have asked Fred, George, and Hagrid to come too, but he did not want to push his luck with his uncle. Although the Dursleys hated Harry and the idea of wizardry, they had begun to act considerably decent towards him, in fear that they'd sprout boils for mistreating him.

At half past twelve, Harry sat in an armchair in the living room, waiting for his guests to arrive. Aunt Petunia had baked a small cake for Harry using leftover ingredients from when she baked a seventeen square inch layer cake with ten layers for Dudley's victory in a local boxing tournament. Uncle Vernon had put up letters that read "Happy Birthday" from Dudley's eleventh birthday party. Next to the letters, he posted a piece of computer paper with the word "Harry" written in magic marker. His named was written in a messy fashion, and it was barely large enough to comprehend. They had even purchased and/or handed down to him a few gifts, which were messily wrapped and thrown in a corner. Next to their presents were Hagrid's, Fred and George's, Mad Eye's, Tonks's, and Dobby's presents, all neatly lined in a row. Harry looked over at his gifts and admired them, feeling happy for the first time in a long time.

"What are you smiling about, boy?" asked Uncle Vernon, sitting across from him. His face was purple, and he was clutching a glass of brandy. Aunt Petunia clicked her tongue and stared at Harry, causing him to feel awkward.

"I'm just excited to see my friends," mumbled Harry. He was telling the truth.

"I'm surprised that you even have friends. You're so damn weird. Why would anyone want to even speak a word to you?" asked his porky cousin, Dudley. He was sweating profusely, and his chins bobbed up and down as he spoke.

"Because if people aren't nice to me, Mad Eye will make sure that they spend eternity sitting in a cage as a slug or a cricket or something," Harry sneered. At once, Dudley looked down at his feet and mumbled words that would have shocked his mother, had she heard. The four sat quietly, listening to the grandfather clock tick, until the fireplace broke the silence. At once, Harry jumped to his feet, and ran to the fireplace. There, standing before him, were four smiling faces, all holding packages. The smell of food wafted through the air. He was thankful that Mrs. Weasley had brought food. Aunt Petunia's gourmet meal consisted of leftovers and the sad cake. Harry beckoned into the living room.

"Harry! Happy birthday," squealed Hermione. She flung her arms around him and hugged him. Meanwhile, Harry struggled to breathe. When she finally let go, Harry looked at Dudley, who looked terribly jealous. He smiled satisfyingly and introduced her to his family.

"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, these are the people I live with." Hermione offered to shake hands with his aunt and uncle, but they sat in the same positions, with their arms crossed and a disapproving look on their faces. Dudley, however, sprang up and shook her hand.

"Hi, Hermione. I'm Dudley. I just won the regional boxing tournament. I'm sure Harry had told you all about me," he said, dreamily. Hermione giggled to herself. Harry had indeed told her everything about him. Before he could say anything further, Harry introduced the Weasleys.

"You already know Ron and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley."

"Ah, yes. I remember. You're the idiot, I mean, person, who caused my son's tongue to swell to three hundred times that of a normal person," said Uncle Vernon bitterly.

"Oh, no, that would be my other two sons, Fred and George. But you have to admit that it was a funny joke, wasn't it? No? Well..." Arthur Weasley's ears began to turn bright red as Harry and Ron sniggered to each other. Mrs. Weasley gave Mr. Weasley a critical look.

"We're really sorry about that incident. Those two boys are out of control. Granted that they now own a very successful business... it was still wrong of them to test those sweets on Dudley," Mrs. Weasley said sweetly.

"A business, eh?" said Uncle Vernon, slightly impressed. "What kind of business?"

"Well, it's um... it's really got to do with entertainment. They've been doing really well... it's targeted towards children..." said Mrs. Weasley uncomfortably.

"It's a joke shop," finished Mr. Weasley for her.

"A joke shop?" inquired Aunt Petunia, raising her eyebrow. "Yes, a joke shop... you know, they sell tricks... like those Ton-Tongue Toffees... Extendable Ears, Dungbombs... oh those are fun. They sell Gobstones... all sorts of neat things. You know how those things go, right?" asked an amused Mr. Weasley.

"No," Uncle Vernon simply stated. There was an awkward silence.

"Right then... Harry, why don't you show us where to put these gifts? And the food also." Mr. Weasley pointed to the many platters and bowls that Hermione and Mrs. Weasly were carrying.

"Food?" asked Dudley, as if that word had triggered his attention, much like a whistle attracts a dog. "I'll show you to the kitchen. Hermione, allow me to carry those for you! A lady such as yourself shouldn't have to carry them."

"No, it's really okay," said Hermione. She then followed him to the kitchen, and Mrs. Weasley did the same. Harry noticed that Mr. Weasley had sat down and had begun to talk to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who made no effort to look as if they were interested.

"It's great to see you, mate," said Ron. "I can't wait until you open Fred and George's present... I think you'll like it a lot... especially since you have that idiot, Dudley, running around. You can use it on him." Harry laughed, and he wanted to know what the twins had given him. That would have to wait, however. Uncle Vernon rose from his armchair and approached Harry in an angry way.

"Listen boy, these... I do not approve of these 'people', and I want them out of here in less than an hour, got it?" asked Uncle Vernon, the veins in his beefy neck swelling, his eyes squinting.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." "Good. Then it's settled. Your aunt and I will be in the other room watching television. Be finished by half past one, and be out of here by two o'clock." Both he and Aunt Petunia walked out of the living room and disappeared into the den. Harry decided to enjoy himself for the next hour, and that he did.

Mrs. Weasley's food was excellent as always. She had made fried chicken, fresh buttered squash, and other things that Harry loved. To top it all off, she had baked a magnificent chocolate cake decorated with candied fruits and sugar roses. Uncle Vernon had forbade Dudley from entering the room, but Harry could see his pudgy figure standing in the doorway, a lustful look in his eyes. Harry could not tell whether that look was directed towards the food or Hermione, and he honestly did not want to know.

After they ate, Harry gathered all of his gifts into a pile. One by one, he unwrapped them. First, he unwrapped a pair of socks and what he recognized as an old hat of Dudley's from the Dursleys. Then, he found that Hermione had bought him all of his new schoolbooks for the new term. Ron had given him Quidditch Through the Ages, Volume II, and Mr. And Mrs. Wealsey got him a brand new pair of "Quality Quidditch Supply's All Weather-Wear Quidditch Gloves". Hagrid had sent a new and handsome iron- cage for him to keep Hedwig in. Hedwig was getting much to large for her old, rusted cage, and this new cage would certainly be appreciated by her as well. Dobby had knitted him a balaclava with golden snitches to match a pair of socks that he had given Harry previously, and Mad-Eye gave him what initially seemed like a tattered book. However, when Harry looked closer, it was really Mad Eye's own copy of The Infinite Book of Aurors. In it, Harry found information on how to be an auror as well as famous ones. He then opened Tonks's present, and found that it was a large box of "Morphing-Mints". Apparently, when taken, these mints would allow you to change one feature about yourself. Each person that had been invited to his party took a mint, and in a matter of minutes, Harry sported a green Mohawk, and Ron had grown whiskers. Hermione's skin color turned pink, and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley's hair turned a violent shade of violet.

Finally, it was time to open Fred and George's present. Harry desperately wanted to know what they had given him in order to seek revenge on Dudley. First, he tore open the paper and found that the twins had given him a poster. However, knowing them, this poster wasn't an ordinary decoration. It had mirror on it, and it read, "The Undeniable Truth". Harry then unfolded the card and read the note written by the twins.

Harry,  
This is a new invention that we created just two weeks ago. It's not  
perfect YET, but we think that you will find this highly amusing. It  
IS a present you, but the physical poster is for Dudley. The trick is  
that whenever somebody's reflection is seen in the mirror on the  
poster, a cartoon of that person's face will replace the mirror. The  
cartoon will then begin naming off bad habits or characteristics about  
the person. Since Dudley has made you feel so terribly throughout the  
years, we thought that we'd charm it so that it only recognizes  
Dudley. Also enclosed is our patented "Permanent Paste". It can  
easily be removed with magical cleanser, but obviously, your cousin  
will not have any. Just put some on the back of the poster, stick it  
to his wall, and see what happens. We hope you've had a happy  
birthday, Harry! Hope to see you soon.  
Regards,  
Fred and George.  
Harry laughed, put paste on the back of the poster and then ran to Dudley's room with the poster, followed by his guests. He burst into the room, where Dudley had been watching TV. Surprised and angry at Harry's entrance, Dudley tried to grab him with intentions of bludgeoning him. However, Harry was too quick. He quickly slapped the poster on the wall. Instantly, a cartoon of Dudley appeared on the poster. It had the same blonde hair and the same round face.  
"YOU STUPID WHALE! YOU SPOILED ELEPHANT-BOY! YOU PIG IN A WIG! YOU'RE AS DUMB AS A ROCK. YOU BRIBE YOUR OPPONENTS TO LET YOU WIN! YOU'RE A HORRIBLE BOXER! YOU CAN'T LIFT MORE THAN THIRTY POUNDS!" sang the poster. Dudley shrieked, and the others in the room began to laugh hysterically. This was exactly what Dudley deserved. Harry expected Dudley to call for his parents, but Dudley did something unexpected.  
"Hermione! This isn't true! It's all lies!" Dudley cried. It was evident that Harry's massive cousin had taken a liking to Hermione. Hermione just stood at the door of Dudley's room, entertained and smug. Laughing, Harry left the room, entered his own room, and grabbed his already-packed trunk. The five then proceeded down the stairs and to the fireplace. They each grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, and after five shouts of "The Burrow!", they were in the Weasleys' house. This had been the best birthday that Harry had ever experienced.


	2. Like a Vixen Almost

Harry Potter and the Residence of Death  
  
Chapter 2- Like a Vixen Almost  
  
Everything belongs to Goddess JK (except some future characters and the story... but you know what I mean).  
  
To my reviewers: Thanks for liking the first chapter to my first fic... I really appreciate the positive feedback. I'm working really hard to write this story chapter by chapter... and you make me want to write it even faster.

"Honestly, why do those boys INSIST on making me angry? ARTHUR! Are you listening to me? Did you know that they were going to give him that poster? DID YOU? ARTHUR! ANSWER ME!" Mrs. Weasley's eyes were bulging, and her anger was as firey as her red hair. She had been ranting about Fred and George's present since her first step into the burrow. Mr. Weasley just stood awkwardly in a corner, his ears turning a bright shade of pink.

"Yes," he responded in a small voice. His head sunk lower, and he truly looked intimidated.  
  
"YOU KNEW? AND YOU DIDN'T STOP THEM?" Mrs. Weasley's arms were flailing about, and her loud voice caused many of her magical trinkets to hide in a nearby cupboard.  
  
"Well, the poster is harmless... and I just thought that it would be nice if Dudley learned some modesty... and well..." While Mr. Weasley was searching for the right words, Harry spoke up.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley, I can take down the poster if you'd like me to... I can go back right now," Harry said. Although he did not want to take the poster down and thought that Dudley got exactly what he deserved, he was more than willing to listen to Mrs. Weasley. She had been like a second mother to him for the past five years.  
  
"No, dear, that's quite alright. I think that this will teach Dudley a very important lesson." She then turned to Mr. Weasley. "HOWEVER! It was INCREDIBLY irresponsible to ENCOURAGE them. I think that I'm going to have to send a HOWLER today! Where's Errol?"  
  
"Um... let's go up to my room," Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione. The trio snuck through the kitchen and down a small hallway to the Weasleys' unique staircase. This staircase zigzagged through the house, causing the house to seem lopsided. They ran up the stair to the fifth landing, where they stopped in front of Ron's door. The familiar peeling and faded plaque that read "Ronald's Room" made Harry feel at home.  
  
Once inside, Harry was blinded by the mass amounts of bright orange, symbolizing the Chudley Cannons, Ron's favorite Quidditch team. It was almost exactly as Harry remembered, with the same flaking wallpaper and the same orange bedspread and ceiling. The only difference in this room was that there were a few new posters on the wall. Ron flopped down on his bed, and Harry and Hermione each took a folded chair out of the corner and sat down. Ron then took a humongous box from under his bed filled with Pumpkin Pasties, Bertie Bott's Beans, Cockroach Clusters, and other treats.  
  
"Fred and George sent them. They really have been a lot nicer to me since they don't seem me as often anymore... at least that's the reason I think," said Ron, stuffing a Pasty into his mouth.  
  
"They do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder," replied Hermione, in a dreamy voice. She narrowed her eyes, and Harry could have sworn that she had winked at Ron. Ron's ears turned pink, and his face began to blush. He then quickly turned to Harry.  
  
"Harry, how have you been?" he asked. A look of concern was expressed on his face.  
  
"I've been okay. Nothing much has happened... then again, does anything interesting every happen at 4, Privet Drive?" Harry tried to laugh amusingly, but he knew that Ron was asking about Sirius.  
  
"I think he means about Sirius," Hermione said, right on cue.  
  
"Oh..." Harry's voice trailed off, and he remembered his dream.  
  
"Listen... if it's too hard for you to talk about it, then we won't," Ron said uneasily.  
  
"No, it's okay. You two are really the only people I can talk about Sirius with," Harry said. "I really miss him... I really thought that I could live with him after all of this was over, but then it happened. It's slowly becoming reality for me... sometimes, I see a shadow of Snuffles on the street, or I hear his voice... but it's all in my head."  
  
"It's good that you're talking about it, Harry," replied a sympathetic Hermione.  
  
"Yeah..." Harry looked down at the floor, and the three of them were silent for a few minutes.   
  
"If you don't mind... I'd prefer not to talk about it anymore," Harry said, holding back a tear.  
  
"Alright, Harry," said Ron. He reached for Cockroach Cluster in the box. At the same time, Hermione reached for the very same Cluster, and their hands touched. Ron quickly retracted his hand from the box.  
  
"Harry! Can I speak to you privately?" He jumped from his bed and hastily opened the door.  
  
"Oh, come on, Ron... We've all been best friends for five years... I'm sure whatever you have to say to Harry can be said to me," said Hermione in a slightly annoyed voice.  
  
"No, this is private... guy stuff. Man to man." Ron puffed out his chest. "Come on Harry, this will only take two seconds." He exited the room, followed by Harry.  
  
"You know, I'm probably not interested in what you've got to say anyway. Unless it's about me..." she suggested. The back of Ron's neck turned red, but luckily, Hermione had not seen him. They raced down two flights of steps to the third landing. Harry knew that they were standing just outside of Ginny's room.  
  
"Aren't you worried that Ginny will hear? She is very good friends with Hermione," Harry stated.  
  
"No, she's not home. She's at Loony Lovegood's house for the weekend," Ron assumed.  
  
"Okay... so what have you got to tell me about Hermione?" Harry asked.  
  
"Who said anything about Hermione?" Ron asked defensively.  
  
"Come on, Ron... I know you. And besides, your ears and neck turned scarlet when she asked if you were going to talk about her."  
  
"So? My ears turn pink all the time! That doesn't mean anything... it doesn't mean that I'm going to talk about Hermione." Ron almost shouted.  
  
"Shhh! You don't want her to hear, do you? And don't deny it... tell me what you wanted to tell me," Harry said, patiently.  
  
"Okay fine! Hermione's been acting weird around me. Ever since she got here yesterday... she's been speaking in a strange voice... and she's always touching my arm..."  
  
"Speaking to you how?" Harry asked, now amused.  
  
"You know... seductive and like a vixen almost..." Ron whispered uncomfortably. Suddenly, a stifled giggle came from inside Ginny's room.  
  
"Oh no," said a mortified Ron. Much to Harry and Ron's expectations, Ginny emerged from her room, laughing hysterically.  
  
"Harry, hi! Happy birthday!" she said. Her face was red and she was almost tearing.  
  
"Hi Ginny," Harry answered. He glanced at Ron, seeing that his face was now completely crimson, and he looked very embarrassed.  
  
"Ginny... I. Thought. You. Were. At. Luna's. House." Ron gritted his teeth.  
  
"I was... but I came home early... and just on time, it seems to me." She snorted. She was now doubled over, sniggering uncontrollably. She then grabbed Harry's forearm. "Hi, Harry. How are you?" she asked in a tempting voice. At that point, she let go, and both she and Harry began to laugh.  
  
"THIS ISN'T FUNNY," shouted a desperate Ron. "AND YOU'D BETTER NOT SAY ANYTHING!" he yelled, pointing at his sister and his best friend.  
  
"I won't... as long as you're nice to me," Ginny said in an annoying younger sister way.  
  
"And I won't," said Harry.  
  
"Good... fine... just GREAT!" Ron began to mutter to himself. He clenched his fists, and his whole body was now flushed. Suddenly, Hermione descended the stairs and walked over to Ron. She placed her hand on his arm, looked in his eyes, waved her eyebrows, and mumbled something in her "like a vixen" voice. She then continued down the stairs.  
  
"What'd she say, Ron?" asked Harry.  
  
"She said that dinner's ready," Ron said, turning red again.


	3. Hogwarts Express Again

Harry Potter and the Residence of Death  
  
Chapter 3- Hogwarts Express Again  
  
Everything belongs to Goddess JK (except some future characters and the story.. you know what I mean)  
  
My reviewers rock.  
  
The next few weeks at the Burrow normally would have cheered Harry up, but he couldn't help but feel as if the whole Weasley family and Hermione, who had gotten permission to spend the remainder of the summer at the Burrow, were trying to protect him. For example, he was not allowed to go out to de-gnome the garden with his friends. He was always kept inside the house, being forced to eat cakes or cookies by Mrs. Weasley or being interrogated about sparkplugs or electric pencil sharpeners by Mr. Weasley. Ron and Hermione never brought up the subject of the events that had occurred at the end of last school year. He was also not allowed to read any copies of the Daily Prophet, and he assumed it was because there would be many articles about Voldemort's uprising or Sirius's death.  
  
Some of the members of The Order of the Phoenix had also visited the Burrow to make sure that Harry was kept out of trouble. Tonks and Lupin had visited once each, and Mad-Eye had stopped by quite a few times, always equipped with a story of his earlier days as an Auror. He even revealed to Harry how he got his "Mad Eye". Apparently, he had gotten an Impediment Curse right in the eye, causing permanent damage and blindness. When the doctors and healers at St. Mungo's couldn't treat it and get it back to normal, they outfitted him with this new one. Throughout the story, Mad- Eye kept popping it in and out of his socket, and he kept offering it to Harry to hold. Harry politely declined each time.  
  
The summer before his sixth year had been a long one, and he highly anticipated returning to Hogwarts. The night before September 1, Harry lay in a spare bed in Ron's room and thought himself crazy for wondering about why Voldemort hadn't found him during the summer. If Voldemort was so strong again, why hadn't he wrought havoc on the wizarding world yet? It made no sense that someone who had waited over fifteen years to return to power hadn't made one attempt to seek revenge on the one person who caused his downfall... He decided to stop thinking about the subject, and within minutes, he was asleep, waiting for the morning to arrive.  
  
"EVERYBODY WAKE UP! WE'LL BE LEAVING FOR THE TRAIN STATION IN EXACTLY ONE HOUR AND EIGHT MINUTES! RON! DID YOU MAKE SURE THAT PIGWIDGEON IS IN HIS CAGE? GINNY! ARE YOUR ROBES INSIDE YOUR TRUNK YET? ARTHUR, ARE YOU SURE THAT THOSE MINISTRY CARS ARE ARRIVING ON TIME?" Mrs. Weasley's voice interrupted Harry's slumber. He opened his eyes, yawned, reached for his glasses, and pulled himself out of bed. He looked over at Ron, who had somehow wound up upside-down on his bed and was snoring loudly. Harry opened the door, and looked out into the rest of the house. Mrs. Weasley was frantic, running up and down the many flights of stairs in order to make sure that everything was in order. Everyone else, however, was slowly stalking through the hallways like zombies, scratching their heads and yawning.  
  
"Ron, wake up," Harry said, barely awake himself.  
  
"Ten more minutes..." Ron responded, groggily. He turned his head away from Harry and continued to sleep.  
  
"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you..." Harry exited Ron's room and headed towards the washroom on the fourth landing. Before he even reached the door of the washroom, he heard Mrs. Weasley's irritated voice yelling for Ron to wake up. Harry chuckled and thought to himself, "I told you so."  
  
Within forty-five minutes, the four Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry were sitting at the large breakfast table, eating pancakes. Harry glanced over at the unique clock that the Weasleys owned that indicated where each family member was at all times and saw that Percy's hand was on "Grave Peril".  
  
"Ron, why is Percy's hand on 'Grave Peril'?" asked Harry.  
  
"It's been on 'Grave Peril' for ages. That whole clock is wrong. Look. It says that Fred and George are 'Hard at Work' when it's common knowledge that they don't wake up until one o'clock in the afternoon," Ron replied, a drop of syrup dripping down his chin. "And it also says that I'm 'In Love', and obviously, that's not true."  
  
"The taxis are here!" called Mr. Weasley. "Quickly, get your trunks and put them in the boot!" Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Harry each grabbed their trunks and cages and proceeded to their taxis. Ginny, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley were in one taxi, and Harry, Ron, and Mr. Weasley were in another. They all ignored the puzzled looks on their Muggle drivers' faces and entered their taxis. All together, they had four trunks, two owl cages, a cat cage, and three brooms.  
  
"King's Cross Station, please," said Mr. Weasley in the front passenger seat. The taxi pulled away from the Burrow, and they were on their way to Platform 9 ¾. During the whole car ride, Harry and Ron amused themselves by listening and watching Mr. Weasley ogle at the speedometer. He also kept changing the radio station, causing the driver to become increasingly annoyed. He kept poking at things and laughing in an entertained fashion.  
  
"What's this, my good man?" Mr. Weasley said, pointing to a knob.  
  
"It's a cigarette lighter," replied the driver in a flat voice.  
  
"Really? Does it get hot by itself?" Mr. Weasley's eyes widened.  
  
"Why don't you stick your finger in it to find out?"  
  
"I think I will!" Mr. Wealsey detached the lighter from the car and stuck his finger inside it. "Ouch! That hurt! Simply fascinating..." The driver glared at Mr. Weasley and continued to drive, occasionally swerving or stopping short.  
  
The taxi finally arrived at the train station at ten thirty. However, by the time Mr. Weasley paid the taxi drivers, it was ten forty- five. He had spent fifteen minutes counting Muggle money and fumbling with the paper bills. "Paper money... honestly," he kept muttering. Harry and Hermione kept offering to count the bills for him, but he insisted on doing it himself. "Muggles are my specialty," he said, over and over again. Finally, he managed to pay the taxi drivers, and they ambled away, complaining about how mad Mr. Weasley was.  
  
"Hurry up! We only have fifteen minutes go get on the express." Mrs. Weasley guided them to the wall between Platform 9 and 10. One by one, they all passed through the barrier and arrived on Platform 9 ¾. The Scarlet steam engine that was the Hogwarts Express gleamed in the sunlight. The four students stowed their trunks in the carriage compartments and boarded the train. Ginny, who had become a new Gryffindor prefect, headed towards the front of the train, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron found and empty one for themselves. "Don't you guys have to go to the prefects' compartment?" asked Harry, hoping that they didn't have to? "No, that's only for first year prefects," said Hermione. They waved goodbye to Ron's parents, and at exactly eleven o'clock, the train began to move, its destination: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
During the train ride, Ron and Harry played Gobstones, Exploding Snap, and Wizards' Chess while Hermione babbled about their summer homework.  
  
"Don't you think that the chapter in _Magical Drafts and Potions_ about love potions is enthralling?" Hermione asked. Somehow, Harry felt that her question was directed towards Ron.  
  
"Yeah, sure," Ron said, distracted by the Gobstones.  
  
"It says in the book that love potions only last for a few days if you test it on someone other than your one true love. Otherwise, if you find your one true love and use it on him or her, that person will instantly realize hidden feelings of passion and romance." Hermione batted her lashes and sighed. "Wouldn't it be nice to find your one true love, Ron?"  
  
"Yeah, sure, tell me when you do," Ron responded, attempting to knock one of Harry's Gobstones out of the ring but failing to do so.  
  
"I already have, Ronald," she replied slowly. She crossed her legs, propped her arm on her leg, propped her head on her arm, and stared at Ron. At that moment, one of Harry's Gobstones knocked into Ron's, and Ron's Gobstone emitted a putrid green substance, aimed right at Ron's face.  
  
"Well well well... if it isn't Potty and Weasel... oh Weasley, your face is dirty, and you smell foul... but that's nothing new for you, is it?" asked a platinum blonde Slytherin. Two large boulders of students named Crabbe and Goyle stood behind him, grunting in agreement.  
  
"Get out of our compartment, Malfoy," Harry said in an acidic voice.  
  
"Why should I? What can you do? You can't use magic," Draco Malfoy hissed.  
  
"Not now, but I can turn you into a ferret immediately when term starts," retorted Hermione.  
  
"Oh, how sweet. The Mudblood defending her two leading men. As much as I despise the both of you, I really thought that you could do better." Malfoy threw back his head and laughed. Crabbe and Goyle grumbled with laughter behind him. Hermione dug through her bag and revealed a picture of Malfoy as a ferret. Colin Creevey had taken it. Hermione flashed the picture to Malfoy, who winced.  
  
"Get. Out. NOW." Ron shouted.  
  
"Fine. But this isn't over. I have so many surprises for you this year, Potter." Malfoy then spun around and departed from the compartment, slamming the door behind him.  
  
"What do you think he means by that?" Harry asked his friends.  
  
"Probably nothing. Malfoy is all talk and no action," Ron muttered, angrily.  
  
"Um, Ron, could I ask you a favor?" Harry then asked.  
  
"What?" Ron inquired.  
  
"Could you... wash that stuff off your face? It's really starting to smell." Harry pinched his nose and motioned for Ron to go to the washroom.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Ron rose from his seat and exited the compartment. Harry then heard other students shouting, "What's that smell? It's awful!" Harry unpinched his nose, relieved by the sudden rush of fresh air. He looked over at Hermione, who was staring out the window.  
  
"Hermione, is something the matter?" Harry asked.  
  
"No, no... I just realized that I'll always be known as the Muggle-born genius with bushy hair," she sighed.  
  
"So? Tons of students at Hogwarts are Muggle-born. And you hair has relaxed over the years..." Harry patted her shoulder.  
  
"I suppose..." Hermione responded. "If you don't mind, Harry, I'm going to go to sleep now. Please wake me up later." Harry nodded, and Hermione turned back towards the window.  
  
What is going on with Ron and Hermione? Harry asked himself. However, he could not answer this question because Ron entered the cabin, smelling better than before, but still slightly ripe.  
  
"How about a game of Wizards' Chess?" Ron asked, taking his set out.  
  
"Okay, but we have to be quiet. Hermione is sleeping." Harry pointed to Hermione, who was breathing heavily. Ron and Harry played Wizards' Chess until the train pulled into the station. Harry then shook Hermione awake. Each of them grabbed their respective belongings and got off the train.  
  
"Harry! Ron! Hermione! How are yer? Stayin' outta trouble?" Hagrid scooped them into his arms and hugged them until they couldn't breathe. When he let go, they each took a moment to catch their breaths.  
  
"We've been well, Hagrid. It's good to finally see you. Harry and I have been at Ron's house for the last month," Hermione replied, beaming.  
  
"Well, that's good. Listen, I've gotta round up the firs' years... I'll speak to yer later." Hagrid then began shouting a familiar phrase.  
  
"FIRS YEARS, THIS WAY!" boomed Hagrid. Harry smiled and walked with Hermione and Ron to their carriages, finally feeling at home.


End file.
